Blank Pages
by mollycullen
Summary: Bella never wanted to be that girl-the one who couldn't walk down a corridor without people talking.She hated the pathetic ghost she had become.Charlie had grown tired of it, Renee couldn't care less so she was being shipped to America for boarding school
1. Chapter 1

A pale girl entered the room, seventeen years old and hating every bit of it. A large suitcase took up the rest of the bed, lying empty as if it had just been unpacked rather than the opposite. Cardboard boxes had been tossed around carelessly, covering the little space left in the large room. The majority of it was taken up with broken lamps, furniture and paper. Lots and lots of blank white paper.

_She was okay with it._

Outside her mother and father were arguing, it was normal. They did it more than any other parents she knew, none of her friends had parents who couldn't stand each other. Nor did their parents never got divorced because it was 'weak'. Instead they both cheated on each other and they both acted as if they didn't know the other was cheating on them.

**_P r o l o g u e_**

_She was okay with it._

A single tear fell from her eye as she stared around the room, thinking of every significant event that had happened in here. Her mother had always come in trying to get her to talk about gossip or boys. She always hated telling her anything because her mother would tell everyone and she'd get really angry. The girl almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it was – her childish problems compared to them now.

_She was okay with it._

She thought of how her first kiss had been in this room back when she was ten. It was with a guy called Tommy, but everyone called him Carrothead because of his famous ginger hair.

_She was okay with it._

And then it had all gone downhill. She stared at all of the posters lying crumpled on the ground. She had torn them down after it had happened and she'd found them a couple of hours ago when she was going through her stuff down the back of her desk. She couldn't believe before it had happened finding a way to meet McFly and to get them to fall in love with her was the least of her worries.

_She was okay with it._

But what she wasn't okay with, what she really hated was what happened afterwards. How everyone pitied her like she was the one who was meant to be pitied. As if she needed that. Their looks and their talks, all of them – each and every one of them telling her it was just a phase she was going though – the teachers, her parents, the therapists. How did they think it was going to make it okay? That she was okay with it?

_No. She – Bella Swan – was not okay with it._


	2. Win Some, Lose Some

_**C h a p t e r O n e**_

Bella sat in the soft black leather passenger seat in her father's car, wringing her hands together nervously. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, and her make-up was smudged, a long trail of eye-liner was stained across her right cheek. Even as she sat there, a salty tear fell from her watering eye which she hastened to wipe away – giving her the appearance of a panda.

She leaned her forehead against the cool window, enjoying the instant relief it gave to her raging headache as she breathed in deeply through her nose. After her yoga teacher having told her at least a thousand times, she knew it was always better to breathe through her mouth but she would rather her father didn't smell her alcohol tainted breath.

Bella swallowed, wishing she had a stick of bubblegum, or a mint – anything which would relieve her of the disgusting aftertaste of alcohol. Closing her eyes, she imagined the taste of a warm mocha latte from Starbucks and wished she had could have gotten the bus home rather than Charlie's silent driving.

In her pocket her phone started ringing, a loud chorus of '_I Kissed A Girl' _filling the tense silence of the car, and Bella immediately regretted letting her friend play with her phone. Never again, she vowed silently.

Glancing at Charlie, she wondering what the chances were of him letting her answer her phone. Already, though he hadn't clarified it, she was pretty sure he was giving her the silent treatment – something she was secretly loving but Bella wondered whether taking the call from whoever was calling might just push him over the bridge. Determined to find out, she flipped open her mobile phone.

"Yello?" Bella asked, her favourite way of greeting someone on a phone. She wasn't quite sure who it was calling, and glanced at the caller ID to see it was an unknown number. Perhaps, Bella thought, Sam had given her number to people after he had changed her ringtone.

"Hi, is this Bella Swan?" The voice asked.

She sneaked a glance towards Charlie before answering. He was, despite the fact she had barely been talking for more than ten seconds, growing red in the face, the veins protruding out of his forehead – always a scary sign. Bella watched as his hands clenched around the steering wheel, his knuckles growing white while he glared furiously at the red light.

"Speaking," Bella answered sweetly, her desire to anger Charlie now as strong as her wish to find out who was the owner of the mysterious voice.

Beside her, the light glowed orange and Charlie quickly accelerated the car stalling. Growling under his breath as several cars beeped behind him, he began driving again.

In the background, Bella could swear she heard the rustling of paper and several hushed voices. Wondering whether she was on speaker phone, just as the person on the other line quietly shushed the voices, the mysterious stranger began speaking.

"I'm -"

But just exactly who the person was, Bella never found out. Instead, as they hit yet another red light, Charlie ripped the phone from her hand. Feeling rather like she was in some kind of PG gay drama, Charlie began speaking into the phone, "I'm sorry, but my daughter can't speak right now." Increasing her feeling of being some kind of troubled teen, he broke the phone in half as Bella looked at him in disbelief.

"What the hell? I was talking!" She screeched at him, staring at the wreckage of what had been her phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here you go!" He said cheerfully, handing her the two halves quickly as the lights glowed yellow again and he sped off.

"You just broke my phone in half." Bella said slowly, as if he was some kind of incompetent fool.

As they pulled up behind a silver jeep her father turned to look at her, "It's impolite to speak on a phone while in another's company."

"Excuse me?" Bella asked through gritted teeth.

It felt rather rich coming from the workaholic who had taken to carrying around a briefcase filled with all of the important court cases he had to study for.

It may have sounded rather stupid when she thought about it from an outsiders point of view, and Bella definitely felt like the scene belonged to one of the cheesy PG dramas she detested so much. For a split second she almost thought she was being punked - a conclusion most would jump to – Bella told herself soothingly, due to how scripted the words sounded but then it occurred to her as she glanced around wildly that there was no camera crew. Indeed ... she felt rather silly for thinking she would be important enough to be punked.

"I merely said it that it was impolite to speak on the phone while in another's company." Charlie raised his voice, speaking slowly as if she was deaf.

"I can hear for myself, thanks." Bella growled, staring at him through narrowed eyes.

They argued for the remainder of the drive, their raised voices echoing in the car oddly, and it was only when they pulled up at the Swan house did their bickering stop – Charlie rather red in the face, and Bella with her arms crossed angrily over her chest.

The Swan house was well known for being the largest for miles around. Black and white, and extremely historical – its history could be traced back for several centuries , well into the Victorian Era. With several acres of land around it, and the long sanded path leading up to it, no one who had seen it could deny it was one of the best houses in the world.

How it fell into their hands, however, was another story. One that was short, simple and ended rather quickly, though perhaps without the fairy-tale ending one might think – and wrongly - someone with a house like this would have.

But maybe, for another time.

As they drove along the path leading up to the house, Bella found herself hating just how long it was. The tense silence that seemed to have filled the car since their disagreement seemed to have reached the peak, and it had become a sound in itself – the only with the exception of the low purr of the engine which echoed oddly in the car.

Without warning, and without parking the car Charlie switched off the engine, their car sitting right in front of the Swan House. Swiftly, and in such a fluid moment it could have been planned, they both slammed their doors shut in unison and marched up the steps into their home.

Both seemed to have the same destination as they marched up the stairs, and through countless corridors – while keeping at least a metres width between them at all times – to enter the same room. The room which was occupied by Charlie's wife, by Bella's mother.

It had been a long time since Charlie had entered Renee's room, the last time had been the day before she had kicked him out, instructing him to stay in a bedroom on the floor above. Indeed it had even been a long time since they had spoken ... well ... argued.

Renee's bedroom was, what could only be described as a fourteen year old girly-girl's dream. The bed was pink, the walls were pink, the floors were pink. In fact everything in the room was pink with the exception of one small green doll which sat on one of the pink radiators, staring at Bella with its large glassy eyes, just visible beneath the green top hat.

Immediately, Bella recognised it. It was one of the dolls Renee had brought back from her tour of Europe, a token from Ireland. She had insisted on putting them in every bedroom, even the servants, telling them all it was to introduce culture in their lives. Bella however, felt that it had just made fear leprechauns.

Sitting in the centre of the bed was a rather short thin woman, with several rings, on every one of her stubby fingers, each ring encrusted with a different jewel. The woman sitting was wearing a flowing white dress, contrasting with her black nail varnish and an unpleasant smile marked her ugly face.

"Bella, darling." She stood up, kissing both Bella's cheeks – another gesture she had picked up while in Europe. "Charlie." She greeted, her voice instantly adopting a cold tone.

"Renee, I'm here to have a talk with you about our daughter. I think what our daughter needs is boarding school."


	3. Remember When

**C h a p t e r T w o:**

_**R e m e m b e r **_

_**W h e n**_

_**!**_

A quiet sigh was the only sound in the otherwise silent house, made by the only person currently occupying it – Bella Swan. The sigh was made as she attempted to close her bulging grey suitcase. It was dull and plain, the complete opposite of her usual possessions. Inside were the things she needed – which had turned out to be a considerable amount – before her less essential and more bulky items arrived. Along the floor of her room were several brown boxes, filled, sealed and waiting to be chucked – quite unceremoniously – into the little space left in the moving van waiting outside which was already fill with more of the identical brown boxes.

With the obvious exception of the suitcase and brown boxes, there wasn't a single thing left in the room. The curtains were gone – ripped, after her unpleasant outburst – and the bed had been broken. It was now currently sitting in the middle of a dump yard, possibly being recycled or destroyed – Bella wasn't sure.

With a final shove Bella finally managed to close her suitcase. Grinning happily at the fact she had managed to close the suitcase without snagging the hem of one of her dresses, she glanced at her new watch which lay open on her bed.

With the diamonds encrusted around the clock, and around the fastenings of the leather band, it was quite obvious the watch had cost well over a thousand pounds. To Renee Swan however, it was no fortune. She would blow away money on countless sentimentally worthless objects, and to her it was no big deal. Of course, it would seem like this to someone who had never done an honest day's work in her longer-than-she-would-be-willing-to-admit life.

Bella had received it in a rather ceremonius meeting with her mother. Renee had given a long speech to her, which sounded rather planned with an oddly formal tone one would not think to associate with a mother. Renee even managed to throw a few tears into her performance – and it was, quite undoubtedly, a performance.

It did seem that Bella had been waiting for something like this to happen, and she let out a rather loud sigh as she slid further down the wall she was leaning against. It had always been uncommon for Renee to show any emotion – one might say this 'ability' was passed on to her daughter – but on one of the rare occaisions when emotion was shone, it was uncommon and extremely unwise to think it was genuine.

Although to some, despite the dramatic emotion – which one might find easy to forgive – Bella could see another obvious reason why she less than fond of her gift. To another who didn't know Renee well, someone who hadn't lived with her for seventeen long dragged out years, it would seem a gift. But obviously, with this person not knowing Renee well, they would be unable to see through her. Quite unlike Bella, who was able to read people like a book.

Bribery. It was what her mother had always resorted to when something went wrong, something that didn't go according to plan. It was always expensive, always something practical yet never something desirable. Bella couldn't ever remember asking for a diamond watch, nor on the previous times when Renee had felt bad in her warm, gooey places when she had given Bella a large diamond collar which she promised would be followed by a pet dog which never came, or the time she had been given a long narrow key, a large diamond at the top of it with smaller ones leading down, which had turned out to be a key to a jewellry box which also never came. Renee had always had a thing for diamonds, so it came as no surprise when Bella new watch was covered with them.

This time it was because of the whole boarding school issue. Bella didn't want to go. Charlie had insisted on it. Renee hadn't voiced an opinion, but despite her protests that she didn't want to be a part of it, Renee had managed to stay in the room long enough to listen to all of the juicy arguing.

No matter how much she tried to hide it, Bella couldn't lie to herself. She hated how Renee thought everything could be cured by a material good. Unhappy? Here's a diamond watch! Of course, it hadn't always been like this. Before it had happened, Bella had seen Renee even less than she did now but when she had Renee was always affectionate.

Unconsciously, Bella slid further down the wall until she was sitting on the ground. After letting out an oddly animal-like hoot of surprise, she crossed her legs and folded her arms – determined not to think about it.

The wall of her room was white and bare, not a single poster pinned up on the wall from an old magazine. Nor was there the small white-board she had kept on her door filled with tiny bright Post-Its of important things to do, or to be.

The right wall was empty of its usual bookcases, filled with books she had been given as gifts, or ones she had bought herself, even a couple she was sure she had been assigned to read in class – there had definitely been a couple of English, and a history book about sources and their times. And a couple of maths textbooks, containing detailed formulas from her advanced class ...

All had been bought or given and Bella had the intention of reading them at the time. However, they had been put to good use – it did, after all, make her look incredibly booksmart.

A single tear fell from her eye, falling down her pale cheek and onto the wooden floor below. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. And she had promised herself she wouldn't think of it, but there it was.

A single drop of clear liquid on the cold wooden floor.

A single drop of clear liquid which marked her misery of the tragedy that had befallen her – that had changed Bella Swan forever. She could remember it – as vividly as if it had been yesterday.

It had been burned into her mind, the memory.

And as Bella closed her eyes in the attempt to stop the sudden flow of tears, behind the blackness she saw it all. Brief flashes from her memories of all that had happened to change her to become the person she was today.

The girl who was trapped in a woman's body and had no idea how she had gotten there, still craving that hug from her mother which she had always wanted, the single piece of praise from her father she had never received.

As Bella sat there, her memories still flashing before her eyes she couldn't help but think of all the things she had missed out on. Things that should have taken place inside this room: a bedtime story read by her mother, a goodnight kiss, even just if wish goodnight – they were all experiences she had missed out on because of it. Because of the stupid thing that had messed up her life forever.

What Bella hated was the muttering. The back-stabbing, the quiet whispers, the hushed voices ... all made by the people she had once considered as friends. Of course when she passed in the corridor they always stopped for moment, and an unnatural silence would occur until Bella passed before the whispering started once more. She could remember everything they had said, even now.

The teachers were the worst though. They thought they knew best when they didn't even know half of it. Bella knew children had been interviewed, asked questions about it but even with all of their investigation, even after the police and the lawyers were called in, what they knew was only the beginning and who was she to tell them the end.

All of her teachers and her principal called her parents up to the school to discuss it. Cards passed hands, names were mentioned and before she knew it, Bella was going to a different therapist every second, and a doctor on her days free from the interfering idiots.

Charlie and Renee had no clue of course. They took the advice, the cards, the names happily. They never to Bella about it, not once. Renee never told her how sorry she was, or Charlie getting angry. It the same scenario, if not worse than before. Renee was out shopping all day, perhaps on occaision going to the neighbours for 'gardening' and Charlie was a workaholic.

Bella glanced at her watch once more. ... _Half past three ..._ Damien, their cook, was taking her to the airport at four. She hated the fact Charlie or Renee couldnl't have taken her but she supposed that require them to take perhaps an hour out of their busy lives to drive their only daughter to the airport.

Then she would be off to America, California to be exact. Maybe it would be fun – boarding school. Who was she kidding, it would be a nightmare. After Charlie had told her where she was going, Bella had googled the place ... and they wore a uniform. Seriously – a _uniform_. Like, as if they were trying to be an actual _school _or something!

_**Including:**_

_**White shirt**_

_**Black tie (thin)**_

_**Black cardigan/jumper**_

_**Black blazer (optional)**_

_**Black straight skirt, one inch above knee (girls)**_

_**Black tights (girls)**_

_**Black smart Trousers (Boys)**_

_**Black school shoes**_

Rather than feeling as if she was going to some happy and intelligent school Bella felt more as though she was going to be attending a school for the seriously depressed and socially challenged.

Was she going to a school full of emos? Was she going to be taught how to slit her wrists? Would there be an entire class devoted to self harming? What would they call it? It would have to be in a secret code so the government never found out! Like ... S.H for self harming? Or E.E? For emo education?

Where they going to have to listen to songs about the pleasure of slitting wrists?Would RE be about the devil and his plans to take over the school?

_What the hell was wrong with this school?!? _

"Miss Swan, we have to leave now."

I nodded, my eyes wide.

_**AN:**_

_**NO OFFENCE TO ANY EMOS**_

_**You know what? I just realised that on my first AN, my first words were that I meant no offence to Emos! Aren't I just great and not stereotypical at all?**_

_**Basically this was just kind of like a bridge chapter to show what kind of loike inner termoil Bella's actually going through because once she actually starts school obviously she won't want to show it ...**_

_**Reviews are appreciated people!!!!**_

_**Au revoir**_


	4. License To Kill

_**C h a p t e r T h r e e:**_

_**L i c e n s e**_

_**T o **_

_**K i l l**_

_**!**_

Bella sat in the back seat of a taxi, trying hard not to look at the heavily tattooed, rather muscular driver. This was her vision of a wrestler, and Bella wasn't too keen on the idea that the only person who she had talked to since she had arrived was at least six foot tall and built like a truck. That would be great - really great - if she died because of an insane rapist who couldn't even talk right.

When he had asked where she wanted to go, Bella had absolutely no clue what the strange muttering meant. Was that what all Americans talked like? Because if they did she was going to have real trouble understanding them.

Thankfully, he had given up on conversation after about twenty long, torturous minutes but now they were just left in an uncomfortable silence, only broken when he was phoned by one of his friends.

Wasn't it supposed to be illegal to talk on a phone and drive at the same time? One handed, and sometimes just with his _knees_? What the hell was wrong with California? Had they never heard of road safety?

Bella breathed deeply. _In ... and out ... In ... and out... _

Oh God! Oh holy God! She had just breathed in the tobacco that was wafting off the driver. Hadn't they ever heard of passive smoking? It was supposed to be as bad as her taking one now and having a great long puff herself!

_In ... and out ... In ... and out..._

And ... Bella's eyes nearly popped out of her skull ... did she smell vomit?

_In ... and out ... In ... and out_

Oh God! There it was! On the seat! Dried in vomit! Its okay – she tried to assure herself. There's only ... only ... How many miles is there to go? How many freaking miles did she have to spend with this freaking taxi driver, and his freaking tobacco and his freaking vomit covered seats?!?

"Uh ..." Bella said quietly, "How many miles left is there left to go?"

"Hmm ... Let me just check, Hun."

What did he just call her? A ... 'Hun'? What the hell did that mean? Was it like some kind of sex name or something? Was it what he called his victims before he raped them? What the hell was wrong with this man?!?

She would have to get out. Bella nodded, shifting slightly to the right so she was nearer to the door. As soon as the car slowed down she would get out! Who cares about luggage! This was her life, she was talking about! Slowly, while sneaking glances into his rear-view mirror, Bella grabbed the silver and surprisingly shiny door handle waiting for the car to slow down to a speed she would be able to survive.

Wasn't it just her luck that they were on a motorway?

Bella waited, still breathing deeply through her nose. Eventually, they would get off it. And when, eventually, they did get off the motorway and when they did, when they slowed down to a safe speed – because she noticed the speedometer was casually creeping up – she would jump out.

But ... wait! Didn't she put her Prada handbags in there? Yeah, Bella thought, she had. Well, they are special edition. That brown one was an original – no one had a bag like that brown one! And her dresses - her designer dresses! They were all in there! All of the important labels were all in there!

She couldn't leave them behind!

That would be like ... like ... C.T.L! Cruelty to labels! Bella had never asked, but couldn't there potentially be a law about clothes. She would have to obey it, to redeem herself for disobeying other laws and then! Then, she would be able to break more laws because her past was a clean slate because she obeying this one! Yes! They had better have an off-licence and a club near that school!

"Uh ... Like about thirty-five minutes, not including traffic, Hun. Is that okay?"

"Uh ..." said Bella, not quite sure what he had said through his thick accent, "Sorry, what did you say?"

Maybe he found her slightly English accent just as hard to make out, because he paused for a moment before speaking, "We will be at the school in about thirty-five minutes."

He stopped, and Bella unsure why he had stared at him weirdly for a view moments before realising he was making sure she understood. After Bella nodded, he continued.

"That's not including traffic, Hun."

He glanced out of the window at the long line of traffic he had just pulled into, swearing loudly. My eyes followed his as they began following the long line of cars, wondering what was the hold-up.

An old rusty truck had clearly crashed into a shining Ferrari. Standing next to it were two young teenagers, about seventeen arguing with a middle-aged man. Hovering between them was a police-man, looking rather awkward as he glanced between them.

The man began gesturing frantically with his hands, hitting the police-man as he did so but not looking particularly bothered about it. Without looking at the police-man, he started speaking again. The police-man hastily scribbled something in his black book, before speaking. No one made any notice of it, and his expression grew more and more frustrated with each attempt to talk.

Her driver froze for about thirty seconds, watching the scene play out in front of him before he swore loudly _again_ and gripped the steering wheel tightly for the first time since she had gotten in the taxi, glanced in the rear mirror and turned, performing an illegal U-turn to do so.

That was strike two. First he drove with knees and talked on a mobile and now he was performing U-turns which were, last time Bella checked, strictly prohibited.

She had to have the _worst_ luck if the first person she met was some criminal taxi driver.

_**AN:**_

_**Okay ... I know its short, believe me – I know.**_

_**But I really pushed this chapter because I knew I was going to be on holiday for a few weeks after this and I didn't want there to be that much of a gap between updates.**_

_**Aren't I great?**_

_**No, wait. Don't answer that ...**_

_**I'm going to Spain tomorrow and in case I die on the plane – which I might with my luck, and its my first one – I'll die happy knowing you guys have reviewed ...**_

_**Well that sounds kind of gay ... **_

_**... and sad ... **_

_**... Plus I probably just jinxed myself ...**_

_**Still ... **_

_**... REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!**_

_**God, I sound really whiney, don't I?**_


	5. That Bastard

_**C h a p t e r F o u r**_

A hundred and seventy-nine dollars?

A hundred and seventy-nine_ fucking_ dollars – for one bloody taxi?

Was he _fucking_ high?

Okay...

Right...

Maybe – Bella thought hopefully – he was joking? Or perhaps she misheard the man? It wouldn't be the first time she couldn't distinguish anything but mumbling through his thick American accent. Determined not to believe him, Bella asked him if he could ever so kindly repeat himself, as she didn't hear him the first time he had spoken.

The strange, kind act fell from her lips as if a stranger had spoken, and her features were arranged into such a kind expression it was hard to believe it was Bella Swan speaking from under those kind brown eyes which suddenly seemed to have a surprising depth. Indeed, Bella surprised herself with her jaw-dropping performance of I'm-A-Little-English-Girl-Who-Needs-Some-Protection-You-Big-Handsome-Man pout.

Although how this man could ever be considered handsome was beyond her and as for the protection? She had just spent the whole journey fearing at any moment he was going to jump out from the driver's seat and rape her, while they both plummeted to an early grave. Well ... an early grave for her. Him – not so much if the wrinkles on his forehead and the crinkles around his eyes were any suggestion.

But there it was – the usual flicker of concentration in his muddy brown eyes as he himself struggled to make out her own accent. The taxi driver paused briefly, even stopping taking a drag on his cigarette as he tried to make out what Bella was saying. A heavy sigh escaped from his mouth and he tapped his cigarette so some black dust fell out the window and onto the tiled immaculate car-park of Kingston High – reserved only for teachers.

And then, with a wide smile which showed all of his yellow nicotine-stained teeth he answered her, "It'd be a hundred and seventy-nine dollars, Hun."Apart from his grammatical error – Bella couldn't help but think – he was back with the sex-toy names.

But a hundred and seventy-nine dollars?

A hundred and seventy-nine fucking dollars – for one bloody taxi?

Was he fucking high?

Okay ...

Right ...

They were officially back to the start.

"Um ..." Bella paused, "Are you sure?"

The taxi driver raised one yellow nailed finger – how could that even be possible? – and pointed towards the charging metre sitting beside him.

_$179.00_

"But," she stared at him, "there must be some mistake."

"Nah, Hun – not a single glitch. Now even yah have the money or you don't in which case ..."

"In which case what?" Bella asked, and she wondered uneasily whether she was right with her suspicion that if someone didn't have enough money they were sent to an African brothel? Dear Lord – why hadn't she walked? Why had she even gotten into this rapist's taxi? And why the _hell_ had she insisted on stopping at designer shops on the way here?

Miserably she glanced down at her Gucci bag. Its leather was gleaming in the sun's bright rags – it was so perfect, so magnificent. It was ... _so_ totally worth it! Bella gazed down at the unmarked white leather running a finger down the smooth material, admiring the flawless bag. If they tried to take it off her in the brothel, they were in for something else.

"In which case we have a special system for those unable or unwilling to pay." Oh God. She knew it. It really was a brothel.

"Well, what is this special system?"

He handed her a thin A4 sheet of white paper. It was crumpled, and torn in some places – obviously no one had bothered to finger the cheap paper carefully.

_**Unable/Unwilling to pay? Then let's show you some options!**_

_**If you're short of ...**_

_**$1-10: a kiss on the cheek**_

_**$11-20: a kiss on the mouth**_

_**$21-30: kiss with tongue lasting thirty seconds**_

_**$31-40: kiss with tongue lasting five minutes **_

_**$41-50: kiss lasting ten minutes with Touching**_

_**$51-75: One breast shown**_

_**$76-100: Both breasts shown**_

_**$100-150: Both shown with Touching**_

_**$150 +: Sex**_

_**Please note this applies only if one is**_

_**Hot**_

_**A girl **_

_**(Unless driver is gay, for more information see back)**_

Bella stared at her driver in disbelief – this was worse than a brothel. She glanced at him, looking him up and down, as if she was a cheerleader in _Bring It On_ or something. What next? Would she spontaneously burst into song that everyone knows the words and exact choreography to? Perhaps she could sing about a brothel? Imagine it now – the number one hit single that topped the charts: _The Brothel._

But, and she could feel any hope remaining shattering, her taxi driver was definitely not gay unless he was hiding it under his tattoos and piercings or something.

"This is like; some kind of sick joke isn't it? Do taxi driver's punk people now?"

"Not me, Hun."

"What kind of place is this?" Bella asked.

"This is America, Hun. Anything we taxi drivers want once you get in the car is our business. Welcome to California, Hun. Now either pull out some cash or I think I know what you're option will be." His gaze flickered to the bottom of the page. "Do you have a hundred and seventy-nine dollars, Hun?"

Bella reached into her purse, hoping that by some miracle it would turn out that she hadn't decided to pay for her Prada bag with cash, or that maybe there was some that she had forgotten about. There had to be money in her purse – there was always money in her purse. It just had to be fate that she actually used cash on a day when she was going to meet some insane rapist!

_Twenty ... Forty ... Sixty ... Eighty ... One hundred..._

_Come on! You have to have it Bella! You have to!_

_One hundred..._

_Twenty ... forty ... forty-five ..._

_Change! What about change?_

_Forty-five ..._

_Forty-six ... Forty-seven ... Forty-eight ... Forty-Nine_

_A hundred and forty nine?_

_But – but then she was – she was ..._

_Thirty dollars short._

Okay – there was no need to panic. Absolutely no need. Just stay calm.

"My Dad's a lawyer!" Bella found herself screeching to the driver's amused face.

"And yet sadly, as I've said, this is America. You're not in England anymore. Now give me what you have and we'll see what's happening."

Resentfully, Bella handed him the money, trying as much as possible to make absolutely no body contact. If this man was going to force her to do this, then he wasn't going to be able to touch her! Maybe she would pretend to be a bad kisser just to annoy him ... She Had heard there were types of kissers with really bad breath and prickly tongues but she wasn't sure she'd be able to manage that in such short notice...

Jane had once went out with a guy who'd given her stitches on her tongue he'd bitten her so hard ... Maybe if she tried Bella would be able to make that happen. And Heidi – she had once gone out with some complete slack that smacked his mouth to hers and made a couple of her teeth wobbly for the few days before she's fixed a dentist appointment.

That was it – that was _exactly_ it! She would act really badly on purpose!

"So ..." The taxi driver coughed, immediately interrupting her plotting. "You're thirty dollars short – and according to the rule guide, though I'm sure you've realised this already, that makes for a five minute snogging session."

He was leaning forward, coming in for the kill. It was different, yet still the same. She was older, she was wiser and but she still had no choice in the matter. Then again, hadn't Bella gone through much worse? It was only a kiss – one kiss with a little tongue and she was making sure that it was going to _hurt_.

He was so close now that she could smell the stale drink radiating off him, each wave stronger than the last, the kind of smell you're pretty much guaranteed to smell off alcoholics.

And then he was pressing his mouth against her, so surprisingly gentle that Bella immediately relaxed against his soft lips, and she granted access happily when his tongue touched her lips. All plans of sabotage were forgotten as she greedily raised her hand to touch his hair, his face, his neck...

It was amazing how her insane rapist taxi driver had changed so suddenly in her eyes because of a kiss she had been dreading, but some how he had gone from rapist to Sex God in about thirty seconds. Less than that, actually ...

Images were flashing through her eyes, coming and going so quickly that they barely flickered before her mind but for once she found herself able to push back the memories and into the present.

It was the fact that he was so gentle ... and soft ... and _loving ._It was easily the best kiss of her life, and it was worth all of those terrifying moments when she feared he was going to murder her. Or rape her, which now that she thought of it, didn't seem unappealing.

Of course, like all good things, it ended all too soon and five minutes later an egg-timer was going off and Bella found herself gasping for breath. It was with a new found thirst for this man that Bella was gulping in the air tainted with tobacco and his own stench of drink.

And he too was looking at her with a new expression – unreadable, yes – but new. Before long, it switched to a more comprehensible face, gazing at her with tender eyes.

Perhaps the little English girl was a little more than he had thought, much more than the average idiotic tourist. More than the annoying Daddy's-girl he had taken her for. Even more than the shopaholic it had seemed she was as he sat in his car waiting for at least half an hour, only able to watch the charging metre shoot up every minute or so.

"Well," he said, breaking the tension, "that's all. So if you'll get out now, I have more work to do."

"Right then."_ Bastard_, she added silently.

She got out, reaching for her bags, and making sure she had a firm grip on her Prada handbag. Reaching for the handle on her suitcase, Bella was about to walk into her new school when she paused and turned to face the bastard one last time.

"What's your name?"

"Me, Hun?" The man asked laughing – perhaps this girl was more clingy than he'd thought.

"No, I'm talking to that statue." Bella glared – the sex name was back in action.

"Well, I'd be Edward, Hun."

And without waiting for her to say another word he had reversed out and was speeding down the motorway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys, I'm sorry if I disappointed you by thinking this is another update, but I do have good news!**

I'M BACK!!

**I'm know I've been away for like a year, but I'm back and I want to start writing this again. I've been going through some personal problems, but I think they are mostly gone now and I'll be able to write again. I don't think I can just pick up where I left off, so I have decided I am going to rewrite this story, in a better way with LONGER chapters. **

**I really hope you'll read this new take on Evergreen, I think its better than I've ever written, and I'd appreciate your reviews and takes on what you think of it. It has been hard, but I'd like to thank the people who went out of their way to PM me and ask whether I was alright - not dead yet! Cros fingers, and hope I didn't just jinx myself.**

So please,

**click on this link and read my new take on Evergreen, :**

.net/s/5528091/1/


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